When I was younger I had a lot of nightmares. And it wasn’t about monsters or goblins or “nice” witches luring my into a graham cracker house and eating me, or whatever it is little kids dream about. I wouldn’t know, because I dreamt about clogged toilets. SO DUMB. But seriously! I was petrified. I had this one dream that I still remember where there was a toilet on my dresser in my bedroom and I tried flushing it and the water just started pouring out. It just ran and ran and ran and flooded my bedroom and I burst into panicky tears and screamed for my parents. They couldn’t reach me though because, you know, toilet water. Anyway, it was a reoccurring theme during my childhood and I can’t imagine why really and I don’t care to think enough about it to figure it out. And to think, I wasn’t even the one who had to fix it or repair the damage it caused! So had my daughter not trudged up the stairs over the weekend in toilet water soaked socks this weekend bawling at the fact the she clogged the toilet I might have hugged her because she will, if she is anything like me, dream about this for years to come. Poor girl. And poor mommy because I about lost my mind when I realized that she didn’t *just* clog the toilet. She CLOGGED it clogged it. Had I not been covered in poop within the next 5 minutes and had black water flowing into my carpet, I might have been more sympathetic to her cause. 2 hours of snaking myself and I called a plumber. 4 hours and $400 of auguring and pulling the toilet later, he managed to fix it. UGH.
All this to say that I went to the doctor on Monday and the Xanax he prescribed would have been handy two days earlier. But I’m feeling much better now, kittens. ANYWAY, back to real life.
Do aphrodisiacs really work? Is chemically altering your brain balance by eating certain foods really a thing? Because if that’s the case, imma start wondering why the greatest minds of our times haven’t figured out that we could solve depression and chronic anxiety with a couple of marshmallows and a cinnamon stick. Thanks a lot, big pharma. Anyway, I can’t imagine that there is much sexy about oysters and caviar and radishes. I mean, fish eggs? And vegetables? THAT’S the best we could come up with? I either don’t eat that shit, or eat it only because I have to. Also, I eat chocolate and marshmallows out of the bag when I’m feeling down and fat and pimply and it only makes me want more chocolate and marshmallows and perhaps a glass of wine to wash it all down with before I cry myself to sleep. What about “Washing the dishes by hand”? Or “Cleaning up spilled coffee grounds.”? “Deciding where to go for dinner.”? “Learning how to cook more than just spaghetti ”? HOT DAMN YOU GUYS, I am not exaggerating when I say nothing makes me want to take off my clothes faster than watching B pick his goddamn socks up off the floor without me asking. Get on this, Cosmo.
According to a new Match.com survey, 71 percent of women don’t want to date a guy who is shorter than them. WHAT? Why? Who even cares about this shit? “Apparently 71% of woman, A.” Yeah yeah, thanks. I wear heels, for those that don’t know. I am also 5’8″ which puts me just at or over the height of most men I meet while wearing them. You wanna know what’s wrong with that? NOT A GODDAMN THING. Here’s the thing that 71% of women don’t seem to understand: I have never, in my life ever, dated a man who either asked me or implied that I should put my heels away. Why? Because you are 6+’ GODDESS in heels that they get to parade around to their friends and they treat you like it! The best I’ve ever been treated was by a man shorter than me in heels! PS: B is shorter than me in heels. Work it out, giiiiirl.
WTF? 50 percent of couples are sharing passwords! Imagine this scenario: You break up with your “seemingly” normal boyfriend. Everything seems cool, but then his inner crazy comes out: He hacks into your Facebook account, steals personal photos, and generally makes your life hell. And yes, it can happen to you: A new study… found that one in 10 Americans have been cyber-threatened by an ex. Of those threats, the jilted ex followed through 60 percent of the time.
First things first: it’s not “hacking your Facebook” if you give him the password, dummy. DON’T DO IT. * Embarrassing story that I’m willing to share in the hopes that you will learn something from it*: My ex husband “hacked” my Facebook and posted the most vile and crude things before deleting all my friends, pictures, and ultimately my account. I have people from my past that STILL will not give me the time of day because of some stuff he posted about me. He also hacked: all three of my email address and shut off my cell phone. Did I also mention he emptied my bank account? Passwords, kittens!
Why did he have all my passwords? Because he asked for them. Raise your hands if you’ve ever succumbed to the “password request” after being berated by this argument: “If you trust me… if you don’t have anything to hide…”. Just about everyone? Thought so. You girls are just like me, I’m sure: thought it would go a long way to build trust in the relationship and GUESS WHAT. All it managed to build was a solid foundation of “Fucked Over” served with a piping hot side of “Heartbreak” and “Hot Tears” and a chilled dish of “self-loathing” for dessert. Here’s the thing: If you feel you have reason to ask for that password then trust is already broken. OR you’re bat shit crazy. My experience was “bat shit crazy” and you can bet your third toe I’m not playing THAT silly game again. Over 2 years and B still hasn’t asked nor does he have any of my passwords, because why? Hint: he trusts me. Why does he need to check up on me if he believes I have nothing to hide? That’s how it’s done, friends.
6 signs you’re probably getting friend zoned: Cosmo is a chick mag, right? I know common sense is not a resume-worthy attribute anymore because so.many.people. lack it, but ladies, tell me you don’t need these fresh glossy pages to tell you when a man doesn’t want to have sex with you. For real? If you’re not getting laid and you’re single, you’re friend zoned or ugly. BUT I DIGRESS.
1. He calls you by your last name: I really don’t call anyone by their last name unless it’s a long standing nickname that I am friend-contractually obligated to call you by, or if I hate you. Also, WE AREN’T IN HIGH SCHOOL ANYMORE girl. If he calls you anything other than the first name on your birth certificate you don’t need to be taking your pants off around him, sweetheart.
2. Chosen communication method: text. Oh boy. If I wasn’t getting laid on the regular, I might be inclined to think this is why. OR NOT. In this digital day and age, I’m baffled as to why we even have the option to dial a phone number on these fancy ass pocket computers we call phones. Gah, if there is a way to NOT talk to someone on the phone or NOT see someone in person by all means I’m trying to do it. I HATE talking on the phone and more importantly, ESPECIALLY to someone I don’t know that well. I have a crackhead stupid sense of humor and guaranteed I will offend someone within the first 2 minutes of making their acquaintance if that first 2 minutes is spent on the phone with them. I get all red faced and sweaty and hang up and think of all the smart and intelligent sounding things I could have said that wouldn’t have to be followed by a nervous laugh and an explanation as to why it really is/was/could be/should have been funny/a joke hahaohmyfuckinggodi’msorryi’mreallynotasdumbasisoundFUCKimmahangupnow. I’m going to record my voice mail to say “Please stop calling me and send me a text or an email. I will not call you back if you leave a message.”
3. He’s a grouper: Perhaps I’ve been out of the dating world too long, but hot damn, group dates/get-togethers are the jam. None of that nervous hand wringing, napkin in the shirt soaking up sweat, taking rabbit bites of that salad hoping that nothing gets stuck in your teeth business. It’s an opportunity to get to know a someone that you may or may not want to spend time alone with in the future. If you do? Make plans. If you DON’T? Casually migrate to the other side of the room with someone else who’s “hanging out” and you never TEXT that dude ever again. Word of advice: that’s probably what these dudes are doing. He doesn’t know: You could be bat-shit crazy and he’s not trying to foot the bill for your psycho ass just yet. Also, boys nowadays seem like total pussies and totally incapable of carrying on a legitimate human face to face conversation so why would you want to hang in any capacity more intimate than a group setting anyway?
4. Your 1:1 time is nonsexual: If he’s not trying to put his penis in or near you, he doesn’t want to put his penis in or near you.
5. He talks about hot girls: I have had plenty of boys talk about hot girls in front of me. The problem was that 1. I was not one of said hot women being talked about and 2. I was dating those dudes at the time. This isn’t an indication that you are friend-zoned! This is an indication that your picker is broken and if you aren’t already seeing dude naked YOU DON’T WANT TO. And if you are, be done with that boy because that shit is gonna hurt your feelings eventually. I still can’t watch a movie with Jessica Alba in it. Seriously. So much butthurt, you guys.
6. He hasn’t made a move: I work with this sweet young girl who has yet to have her heart ripped out of her fragile chest and mercilessly stomped on and shattered by some some heartless asshole who decided not to care anymore and I LOVE IT. She is so adorable and innocent and she laments all the time about this boy that she RILLY RILLY likes but she’s so goshdarned nervous around him and she hasn’t worked up the courage to say anything but she knows, like, for 99.9% certain that he likes her to but he hasn’t said anything either and butterflies and rainbows and kittens and squeeee to that sappy shitty. Oh my word I simply can’t get enough of that innocent puppy love! So pray tell, Cosmo, does this sweet thing know with almost 100% certainty that boy likes her back even though he hasn’t made a move? Because boys are seriously dumb and they need the likes of an air traffic controller to inform them that they are ready for takeoff. These dudes have the frailest of all egos and he’s not gonna make the first move unless he knows with 122941% certainty that he’s not going to be rejected on the spot.
Cosmo, I hatelove you. I swear, they write articles just for me to tear apart because someone somewhere is getting paid ALL the money to write this bullshit and I’m offering the same advice here for FREE. You’re welcome.
Xoxo’s and Xanax’s, kittens. Love you all the MOST.